


Say what I want to say

by Hyeyu



Series: aetate mirum [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - RPG setting, Disabled Character, Fluff, M/M, mentions of Kuroo/Sawamura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9000955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyeyu/pseuds/Hyeyu
Summary: Iwaizumi looks up instinctively as the bell over the door tinkles, brow creasing into an annoyed frown the minute he registers who it is. "Oh, hell."
  "Iwa-chaaaaaan!" The trill is ridiculously chipper and too bright, and Iwaizumi wills his frown not to turn into a scowl. His hands thankfully remain steady, one of them pressed against his client's shoulder as the other rotates a spool above her head. The dream-thread is black and frayed where it was winding out of the small girl, and he doesn't want to leave even a fragment of it behind.
In which Iwaizumi is a mage who dream-winds to make a living, and Oikawa is a (lovable, capable, utterly brilliant) asshole of a grand cleric.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I figured I should write fic for Christmas or something, as a present for people who put up with reading my stuff! I’ll probably throw up another chapter in ‘Could Be the One’ later in the day, but I figured there should be a wee smidge of fluff as well.
> 
> I was going to do an installment in the married-husbands! tumblrfic verse, but uh, I opened Wordpad and this came gushing out instead. So here, have RPG!Iwaoi instead. (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ 
> 
> There's no specific RPG universe referenced, just a mishmash of stuff. But the general tropes and chara-types apply.
> 
>  

Iwaizumi looks up instinctively as the bell over the door tinkles, brow creasing into an annoyed frown the minute he registers who it is. "Oh, hell."

"Iwa-chaaaaaan!" The trill is ridiculously chipper and too bright, and Iwaizumi wills his frown not to turn into a scowl. His hands thankfully remain steady, one of them pressed against his client's shoulder as the other rotates a spool above her head. The dream-thread is black and frayed where it was winding out of the small girl, and he doesn't want to leave even a fragment of it behind.

To his credit, Oikawa seems to have realized that Iwaizumi is busy; the one brief glance Iwaizumi spares his way tells him that the grand cleric has seated himself on one of the high stools near the counter, humming tunelessly as he flips through the book left open on the tabletop. Good enough.

Dream winding is always a little tricky, but Iwaizumi's an old hand at it by now; for all the muscles and supposed brawn he exudes, his fingers are dexterous as he tugs off the last strands of nightmare clinging to the girl's hair. A murmured spell sets the whole spool aflame, and even Oikawa lifts his head to watch as Iwaizumi sketches a few quick symbols into the air, runes of power as he purifies the dream into a burst of energy that he flings into the lamp hanging from the ceiling. It brightens before resettling into its usual dim glow, and Iwaizumi grunts, pleased. 

"That should be it, Yachi-san."

Blond hair bounces as Yachi straightens up with a start, then immediately bows her head. "Thank you so much, Iwaizumi-san!"

"Try not to get eaten by a wight again please; I'm going to have to start increasing my charges for repetitive self-incurred trauma."

The dragoon-rider wilts. "B-but there's something I need to get from one of them for Hinata. He can't change forms otherwise."

Iwaizumi shrugs. "Get your mage to charm them to sleep or something. Either way, I'm not joking about the extra charge - if I see you here again within the next week, I'm increasing my fee to two gold pieces."

Yachi's shoulders droop further. "Y-yes."

Patting her on her shoulder, Iwaizumi watches as she leaves the shop before turning a glare onto Oikawa. "As for you, I'm going to start charging you for entering this place."

"So mean, Iwa-chan." Oikawa clutches at his chest melodramatically, wrinkling the insignia there. "And here I was thinking you could use some company."

Iwaizumi squints at him, eyes narrowed. "That, or you're trying to worm your way out of healing Ushijima again."

"That fucking paladin can heal his own damn self," Oikawa mutters. "But no, Ushijima is happily holed up god-knows-where, probably with his hydrangeas. Or Semi. Or both, not that I care. I'm here for _you_ , Iwa-chan."

"Did you get swallowed by a wight?"

"No, I-"

"Almost ripped apart by a gnoll?"

"Of course not-"

"Got trapped in a coffin with an undead king?"

"What, how is that -"

"Accidentally walked in on Kuroo and Sawamura having sex?"

"NO!" Oikawa bawls, slamming both palms down on the wooden counter. "No, no and no! Honestly, Iwa-chan, why must you keep insisting on thinking the worse of me?"

"I specialize in the removal of dreams and memories at minimal cost," Iwaizumi reels off his standard pitch in the deadpan manner he knows infuriates Oikawa the most. "Whether its destroying the trauma of having killed a man to wiping out the accidental intrusion on someone else's occupied bedchamber,  I'm your man."

He arches an eyebrow at the grand cleric. "So, out with it: what do you want?"

"Yadda yadda blah blah bah." Oikawa punctuates the last sound with a raspberry, slouching. Like this, he resembles the serene visage often printed in the tracts circulated around town less. "Can't I just stop by to visit an old friend?"

Iwaizumi meets Oikawa's eyes evenly. "Are we still that?"

Oikawa doesn't answer immediately, breaking Iwaizumi's gaze as he gets to his feet instead. "I want you to wind out one of my memories."

"I knew it - visiting an old friend, _my ass_ -"

"Hajime." Oikawa has already perched himself on the chair Iwaizumi uses for Winding, settling his robes neatly around him as he closes his eyes. "Month of Neth, Oathday at night. Don't destroy it."

Iwaizumi pauses, perplexed. "'Don't destroy it'?"

Oikawa doesn't answer directly, merely hums a confirmation. Seated this way, he looks more like the saviour of Seijou the people adore, eyelashes delicate on his cheeks, shoulders straight, hands folded in his lap. Iwaizumi tears his eyes away from the sight, shooting a lock-spell at the door. Then he refocuses on Oikawa, professionalism tugged firmly into place as he picks up an empty spool.

"Month of Neth, Oathday at night?"

"Mmm."

A simple enough memory to find - it is neither repressed nor buried under fear or denial. Rather, it floats to the surface as Iwaizumi's fingers dance through the threads that emerge and he pauses again, more than a little confused. The thread is almost incandescent, glittering amongst the duller, more mundane ones. This is a good memory, a more-than-good one, if the shine is anything to go by.

It is rare for Iwaizumi to dream-wind a good memory. The dreams he's usually requested to wind (and destroy) veer towards the darker, terrifying range of the spectrum. He's winded everything from memories of watching family members being eaten alive to a knight's first human kill. Everyone opts to keep the good memories though; the removal of such memories mean that you won't remember them after. It is an unnecessary loss.

"What are you up to?" Iwaizumi murmurs to the man seated below his outstretched arms.

Beneath him, Oikawa's mouth has fallen open, lips soft and relaxed as he sighs, gentle exhales of air. The grand cleric has always been particularly susceptible to dream winding, his memories parting from his self as easily as skin peeled from a fruit. In the earlier days, it had been Iwaizumi's exclusive duty to dream-wind any nightmare Oikawa suffered from.

These days, he supposes Hanamaki takes care of it when the royal party travels out of Seijou. The last time he met the pink-haired mage, he had complained that Oikawa's thoughts were a tangle.

"Briars, all of them, and so hopelessly messed up," Hanamaki had groused, slamming his mug on the counter for emphasis. Some ale slopped out, but Hanamaki was too absorbed in his rant to care. "Some of them almost took my fingers right off. God bless you, Iwaizumi, I don't know how you do it."

Iwaizumi had assumed Oikawa had (finally) acquired a sturdy mental defense and quietly approved. Now, looking at how the memories surge to respond to his touch, he isn't so sure.

He guides the thread to the spool, presses a symbol into the wood as he begins to extract the memory carefully. It is beautiful, sparkling in the light and Iwaizumi feels a grudging smile tug his lips upwards as he winds, winds, winds...

It's not a large one, nor a particularly long one, and the end of it slips free of Oikawa's mind like silk. Oikawa makes a breathy sound which catch within his throat, high and hitched. His head falls backwards - like this, he is utterly bewitching, and if Iwaizumi leans down, he could catch that plush lower lip with his teeth, press in to steal, rogue-like, a kiss - 

"Mmm, Iwa-chan." The grand cleric's voice is light as air. "Still so good at it. No wonder people come to you for this."

"Of course, idiot." He coughs, hopes Oikawa didn't notice the hoarse scrape to his voice. He shakes the spool, careful to not dislodge the thought tugged snugly around it - good or not,  it is dangerous to let something as delicate as mind matter remain unbounded. "What do you want me to do with this?"

"Oh, right." Still blinking lazily, Oikawa looks around vaguely. "Where's my bag?...Ah, here we go."

Iwaizumi eyes the object deposited on the counter dubiously. "A crystal ball? Looks pretty old-fashioned."

"It's not just any crystal ball. I picked it up when we were travelling through Tokonami - obscure place, but surprisingly pretty." Peeking at Iwaizumi through his lashes, Oikawa gestures at the ball. "Go on, anchor the memory in it."

"Oikawa, you know as well as I do glass can't handle-"

"I'm not a fresh acolyte; this is different." Oikawa pauses. When he next speaks, his voice is lower. "Trust me on this, Iwa-chan - throw my memory into that."

Iwaizumi hesitates, but he's already lost this argument. For all that he grouses about how impossible Oikawa is, the mage has yet to be able to resist giving him what he wants. The familiar words leap off his tongue easily, the hand motions so rote he could do it in his sleep. The memory dances, flickering as it leaps off the spool and dives into the ball. 

 _Oh_ , Iwaizumi thinks, surprised as the sturdiness of the not-glass-after-all as it resists his probing manipulation, _it **is** different._ The foreign material rebels against the memory, trying to eject it, but Iwaizumi is not considered one of the best in Seijou for nothing. He switches spells, muscles straining as he merges runes together, sketching them quickly on the clear surface as he taps at the edges to find a compromise with the would-be-anchor. A tiny boom echoes somewhere - Iwaizumi ignores it, mind completely focused on the task at hand.

The acceptance of the memory is a crumbling under his fingertips, caving inwards - grinning, Iwaizumi rubs his thumb and forefinger together, summoning the dream-thread to him as he feeds it to the crystal, one second at a time. It doesn't take too long, but it consumes more effort than he expects; distantly, he feels sweat start to bead along his forehead, but ignores it in favor of keeping his hands still.

Once done, he sits back, tired but triumphant. He can feel Oikawa's stare, as tangible as dream-thread, and turns to meet it head-on. It is unexpectedly fond and wistful.

"I've missed watching you do these kinds of magic."

Iwaizumi fights the urge to look away. "We should import some of these in," he says instead, tapping the crystal. "Granted, I don't know if other mages will be able to handle the exertion of bonding a memory to the material, but it'll make for a pretty trinket."

"Oh, I don't think you can do that." Oikawa's wave is dismissive. "I cashed in a favour to obtain that. Ikejiri wouldn't even consider giving one of those to me at first."

"A favour? What did you do?"

"Oh, you know, life-binding, that kind of inconsequential stuff-"

 _"Life-binding_? Oikawa, you dumbass, please tell me you didn't-"

"I probably didn't, but if you don't ask, you won't have to worry, right? Besides, you've just rifled through my mind, and given your tendency to worry like some kind of broody hen, I'm sure you would have seen if there had been a recent terrible memory in there."

Which...is admittedly true. Iwaizumi hadn't seen any particularly dark or frayed memories in Oikawa's headspace. Still, Iwaizumi scowls at the grand cleric. "Just because I'm not there doesn't mean you can pull off dumb stunts."

"Mmm hmm yeah yeah. Anyway." Oikawa cradles the crystal ball, raising it to the light. "It's a shame I won't remember this, but hold out your hands, Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi expects Oikawa to deposit the fragile-looking object into his palms, but not the quiet instruction that comes with it. He blinks at Oikawa, bemused. 

"Say your name to the ball," Oikawa repeats. "Your true name." 

Shrugging, Iwaizumi leans in, whispers ' _Hajime_ ' over the clear surface. The ball lifts off his cupped hands, spinning in the air as light emits from the center. No, Iwaizumi realizes, leaning in to peer at it closely, not light. A memory.

The view is stunning. The sky towards the right is the red-orange-pink of approaching evening, even as the left is the shade of a pale blue morning. Stars freckle the highest point of vision - Oikawa must be on top of some cliff to be able to see the Morning Star that clearly. Below the streaks of sky are the caps of mountains, snowy and cold. Beyond that, the dark shadows of trees and forest. 

The mage draws in a breath he's forgotten as his eyes devour the scenic landscape. Then it abruptly swings, and now there's a rock, a single pinnacle that extends upwards -

Abruptly, Iwaizumi realizes what the view is. 

The scene one can only see at the highest peak of mount Shiratorizawa . The top of the world, as someone had once whimsically called it.

Barely has this realization struck when Oikawa starts speaking, the voice echoing hollowly.

" _I don't know if the ball I got from Ikejiri will work, but just in case it does, I'm committing this memory to my mind as accurately as I can. I had to beg a week off to climb up here, but...it's beautiful, isn't it? We've always wanted to get up here, and...I hope you can see this. I...I wish you were here. You should be here._

 _Iwa-chan."_ Then, in a softer, much more intimate tone, _" 'Jime. I didn't mean to make you mad. I didn't mean to fight with you that last time. But I still don't understand why you won't come out with us anymore, with me. You can still travel, there are fixes for that now, y'know. But if you don't want to, I guess I can't force you._

_Still...I miss you. I...I love you, 'Jime."_

Iwaizumi gapes at the orb, thunderstruck. Turning his head shows Oikawa greedily watching Iwaizumi, expression anxious even as his fingers twitch on the table top. Transparent as ever, Iwaizumi thinks faintly.

Orb-Oikawa is still speaking, laughing a little. " _There, I've done it. I've confessed to you, Iwa-chan! Haaaa, now I don't know if I want the orb to work or not..."_

"I meant it all, you know." There is no laughter in real-Oikawa's voice, only an aching sense of sincerity. "I still mean it." 

"Shittykawa." Iwaizumi's head is spinning, he's reeling, gripping the table in a futile effort to ground his emotions. "why the hell would you confess your love through...through a _memory_?"

"I can do it in person too." The grand cleric's face is utterly earnest even as he inches closer. "I love you, Hajime."

"I..." Iwaizumi falters. "Seijou's royal grand cleric can't tie himself down to an handicapped mage."

"You lost that leg protecting this fucking kingdom!" Oikawa snaps, ire crackling sharp and crisp. "It's not whether I deserve you, it's more of a question if you deserve me. I can be a pain sometimes, I know-"

"The biggest one in my ass."

"You're not supposed to agree!" Oikawa stamps his foot, and Iwaizumi can't help the grin that tweaks irrepressibly at the corners of his mouth. "But okay, fine! I can be a pain in the ass, and too single-minded, and overly ambitious sometimes. But I know you know I'm the best grand cleric around these parts. And you, you make me _better._ Not just as a cleric, but as a person."  Oikawa is directly beside Iwaizumi now, pressed against where the space of a thigh used to be as he leans in. "Hajime, you remind me about what matters. And it isn't your damned leg, or Seijou, or doing my sacred duty twenty-four-seven. You remind me of _happiness_."

It doesn't take much thought for Iwaizumi to lean in this time to capture Oikawa's mouth against his own, warm and eager, fitting itself sweetly against his own. Boxed in by Oikawa's thighs, Iwaizumi leans into the brunet's embrace, his own arms coming up to wrap around the lithe body. 

The kiss lasts forever and not long enough, but something loosens inside Iwaizumi and he sighs as Oikawa tugs him to his chest.

"Come with us next time." Oikawa says into Iwaizumi's hair. "I'll talk to the king; he'll definitely agree."

"I've got a responsibility to stay here and offer my services to the public," the mage points out. The grand cleric whines in protest.

"You've got a responsibility to _me_." His petulant remark breaks into a squeak as Iwaizumi elbows him. "But I suppose you're important here too. Maybe just on the more important quests? You need to prevent me from hexing Ushijima. And don't get me wrong, I trust Makki, but I trust you _more_."

"If I can get a good enough prosthetic, I'll consider it."

"I'll find you the most amazing prosthetic _ever_. Rumor has it Fukurodani has perfected golem creation-"

" _Normal_ prosthetics, Tooru."

Oikawa pauses, head cocked. "Call me that again."

"Tooru."

Oikawa's kiss is messier the second time around, a clash of tongues and teeth but no less sweet. "Call me that again."

"Greedy Tooru," Iwaizumi breathes into the space between them. "I love you too, idiot."

Another kiss as Oikawa's grip on Iwazumi tightens. "Say that again."

"I love you, idiot."

"But without the 'idiot' part."

Iwaizumi's laughter is stolen by Oikawa, is returned against the hot flesh of his neck and chin to which Oikawa presses a string of light kisses. "I love you, Tooru."

"I love you too, Hajime."

On the wooden counter, the crystal ball sits, quiet at last, forgotten.

 

_owari_

An afterthought:

"By the way," Oikawa says, rubbing his hands together for warmth as Iwaizumi locks up the shop for the night.  "I noticed the spell you slipped into Yachi's pocket. I reckon the next wight that tries to digest her is going to be in for a nasty surprise."

"A dragoon-rider mounting a shapeshifter dragon." Iwaizumi shakes his head ruefully. "Whoever thought that would be a good combination? God bless them."

"Who cares about blessing them, we need to bless your bed _right now_." Oikawa waggles his eyebrows. "And oh, what a surprise, it seems that my blessing's been at maximum strength lately."

Iwaizumi's groan stutters into a moan that was easily swallowed by the noise of the town around them as Oikawa grins, sly, hand surreptitiously sliding away from where it had groped under Iwaizumi's robes. "Fuck, not _here_ , Shittykawa-"

"C'mon, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa singsongs, delighted. “Chop chop! The night's not getting any younger - we've only got so many hours left. And I intend to make every one of them _count_."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading, and Merry Christmas! (•́⌄•́๑)૭✧
> 
> If you liked this, you can find a short hurt/comfort sequel [here on Tumblr](http://hweiro.tumblr.com/post/154941791619/take-me-to-the-river-haikyuu-iwaizumioikawa)!


End file.
